


10x100: Fever Dream

by KittenKin



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: First Kiss, Fix-It, Friends to Lovers, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-29
Updated: 2020-09-29
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:28:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26720644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KittenKin/pseuds/KittenKin
Summary: Based on an anonymous request received in my tumblr inbox:"concept: sherlock collapsed at the cake place after The Hug and has been comatose since because they can’t get his fever from the withdrawal under control. that’s when tfp happens, it was all a fever dream."
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Comments: 11
Kudos: 78





	10x100: Fever Dream

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, confession: I have only watched the first two seasons of BBC Sherlock, and everything I know about seasons three and four were from my tumblr dashboard. After receiving this prompt I hit up the internet for some details, as I knew nothing about “the cake place” or even when exactly The Hug happened. After recovering sufficiently from my shock and horror, I wrote the following set of ten drabbles.

The last thing he remembers with any real clarity is how comfortingly warm John is, how lovely to wrap around, like a hot water bottle except filled with grief and guilt. After that it's a jumble of surreal nightmares weaving themselves in and out of the terrifying ordeal of discovering that he's got two older siblings who are smarter than he is. He wonders at his parents for having the courage - or temerity - to conceive him.

Except he wakes up in hospital, and John only looks more and more confused, and alarmed, and afraid with each question Sherlock asks.

= = = = =

John and Sherlock only end up arguing instead of explaining. Before they can escalate to shouting and draw the attention of the nursing staff, Mycroft steps in.

"Humor me," he says, with a sigh that seems heavy with years of disappointment. His tone somehow combines a plea, a command, and a decree that it shall be. "My full name is Gregory..."

"Mycroft Mark Holmes," Sherlock completes, while John sputters.

"Hang on, is that why you keep deleting Lestrade's first name?!"

"And you are William..."

"Sherlock Scott Holmes."

"And Sherringford..."

"Geoffrey George Holmes," Sherlock automatically rattles off, then stops and blinks.

= = = = = 

He looks most like Sherlock at first glance, with the same dramatic curls and heavy brows, the little upward tilt to the tip of his nose over lips that ought to look absolutely ridiculous on a man. John recognizes the rounded chin and precise angle of the jaw, and can't stop himself from glancing up from Mycroft's phone to compare the scattering of moles on Sherlock's neck to the ones on Geoffrey's.

As if to apologize for sharing so much of Sherlock's features, he seems to have modeled his attire - at least in this photo - after Mycroft, buttoned-up and formal.

= = = = = 

"He was a surprise," Sherlock says, to John's exclamations over Geoffrey's youth.

"Because you were a shock," Mycroft murmurs.

"He's in MI6," he adds with some pride, and then smirks at John's expression. "Did you really think it was my influence alone that allowed me to accomplish so much on Sherlock's behalf?"

"Just computer work," Sherlock scoffs, piqued at John's attention focused elsewhere. "Hates crowds and dirt and everything useful for data gathering."

"Seems a good mix of the two of you," John murmurs while looking at the picture again, missing the near identical looks of surprise from Geoffrey's brothers.

= = = = = 

Sherlock's allowed to go home once his labs come back clean. Having a physician promising to watch over him goes a long way toward reassuring the staff that he is safe to release, and out of gratitude, he doesn't put up (much of) a fuss at the wheelchair John brings 'round for their trip down to the car park.

Trying to control and compartmentalize his thoughts keeps him too busy for proper strops, in any case. Like some nightmares tend to do, the mental images of John in peril dig claws into him, and will not be easily brushed aside.

= = = = = 

He throws his unruly thoughts at John. Old habits and all that.

John seems to have the most trouble with Sherlock never second-guessing whom to shoot. He keeps pressing, as if wanting to be told that yes, Sherlock did have one moment of hesitation, one pang of self-doubt.

"After everything, is it really so unbelievable that there are no lengths to which I will not go, or sacrifices that I will not make, for the sake of your happiness?"

Sherlock drops his gaze. Not that his choices have made John happy.

"Or at least...the hope that you'll eventually find it."

= = = = = 

221B bustles around Sherlock like a busy hive, with him the solitary, stationary queen.

Mrs. Hudson cooks and cleans and tuts at him and John in equal measure. Hopkins and Lestrade stop by with takeaway and case files. Molly brings pastries and - now that John has taken up temporary residence once more - helps mind Rosie instead of Sherlock.

And John talks.

They talk about everything they've been avoiding talking about, as if that one bout of tears had washed away all John's reticence. The two years away, and the night Sherlock returned. Moriarty and Mary and Magnussen. Geoffrey and Eurus.

= = = = = 

After exhausting the past, they cautiously begin exploring the future.

Sherlock is essentially recovered, but John's belongings do not migrate back to his house. Nor do John and Rosie. There are carefully nonchalant comments about getting out of Sherlock's hair, and after every sincere invitation for the Watsons to stay as long as they like, another bit of permanence makes it way to Baker Street.

Small things at first; clothes, shoes, books, toys. One day Mycroft's minions crowd into the flat to set up new furnishings in the upstairs bedroom. John doesn't comment; just silently packs up the collapsible cot.

= = = = = 

The house sells at far above the asking price, after two buyers get into a rather heated bidding war. John signs papers and shakes Dr. Verner's hand, and doesn't find out that he's just met Sherlock's third cousin until several years later.

Sherlock watches as John moves back into the upstairs bedroom, and supervises as 221C is gutted and remodeled into a lovely little laboratory. Once the renovation is complete, he loses interest in chemistry and takes up early childhood development studies instead.

Watson prefers Mozart to Brahms, and puffed rice crackers to yogurt melties. Scrapbooks start filling the bookcases.

= = = = = 

"Dada!"

She's looking at Sherlock, who glances fearfully at John, but John looks delighted.

"Yeah?" John asks. "Is that Dada? Am I Da, then?"

John asks, later, if that's all right. Sherlock boggles, then nods.

"And this is my partner, Sherlock," John says to a stranger cooing over Watson. He asks if that's all right, too. Sherlock hums yes.

Mrs. Hudson minds their daughter so they can indulge in gnocchi and wine. John takes his hand at Angelo's, kisses him in the park, and when he's got Sherlock pinned to the bed, whispers,

"You know I love you."

"I do."


End file.
